


Falling Action

by andveryginger



Series: Deja New [4]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Double Agents, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, RPverse, Spies & Secret Agents, non-canon backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 07:53:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16698427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andveryginger/pseuds/andveryginger
Summary: "Falling for him would be like cliff diving. It would be either the most exhilarating thing that ever happened... or the stupidest mistake...." —Hussein Nishah





	Falling Action

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place about a month after "Breaking the Ice."
> 
> Written by Ginger with input/consult/review by Keldae, who knocked some sense into the old man when necessary.

_**Kaas City, Dromund Kaas  
3641 BBY | 12 ATC** _

  
Mairen Bel Iblis stood before the towering kolto tank, gaze sweeping over the unconscious features of her principal agent and handler, Reanden Taerich, as he floated in the misty-clear liquid. His nose and mouth were obscured by a sealed mask; tubes and leads dotted his skin, stirring with the gently swirling current of healing gel as they reached back to the control panels. A steady, electronic _beep_ echoed through the empty medical bay -- tracking the beat of his heart, followed by a _hiss_ with the compression of air into his lungs.  
  
She placed her hand against the transparisteel. It was surprisingly cool to her touch, though she knew the kolto inside was warmed to body temperature. Closing her eyes, she reached gently into the Force, seeking him out. His signature twirled and meandered through space, steadier and stronger than the two days previous. She was no healer, but she suspected he would be fine.  
  
Relief washed over her, even as she chided herself for caring so much. They were just friends, after all, and colleagues.  
  
“Can I help you, my lord?”  
  
The metallic-tinged voice of the medical droid brought her back to herself, opening her eyes and looking to the gangly figure that loomed beside her. She was constantly amazed at how the tall, awkward machines managed to walk, even now. Drawing back her hand and squaring her shoulders, she delved deeply into her Sith persona. “A status update on Agent Taerich’s condition,” she replied.  
  
“His vital signs have remained stable since yesterday, and his wounds appear to have closed more efficiently than expected,” the droid replied. It gestured to the tank. “Provided he remains stable, Agent Taerich is expected to be removed from submersion later this afternoon.”  
  
“And the prognosis?”  
  
“The same as yesterday, my lord: He is still expected to make a full recovery.”  
  
Mairen nodded once. Inwardly, she sighed. She was glad her assessment had been correct. “Very good.”  
  
The droid made a few entries into the datapad it held and then looked back to her. “You may, of course, return after mid-day, if you wish to speak to him.” It tilted its head to the side in a gesture of curiosity. “Will there be anything else, Lord Bel Iblis?”  
  
“No, that will do.” She gave a taut smile, and the droid moved back to the input desk a few feet away. Looking up to Taerich one last time, a wry grin twitched across her lips. “See you soon, Reanden,” she said quietly, “you cranky old bastard.”  


* * *

  
When she walked into the medbay after mid-day, Mairen was pleased to see Taerich had already been removed from the kolto tank, and was dressed, sitting on one of the nearby beds. The spindly med droid hovered beside him, tapping data into a small screen built into its arm, even as the agent towelled his hair. Relief settled deep within her. “Agent Taerich,” she said. She couldn’t help the smile that broke across her features. “I’m glad to see you much improved.”  
  
Hearing her voice, the spy looked up. There was a momentary flicker of something -- something lighter -- across his features before his brow creased into a frown. “Thanks,” he mumbled. His lips thinned and he studied the hem of the towel looped around his neck. “No thanks to that ‘soft target.’”  
  
Mairen blinked. A wry grin flickered across her lips, but did not remain. She felt uncertainty begin to creep along her spine. “Yes, well, you’ve more than proven a hard target yourself over the years.”  
  
The muscle in his jaw ticked, and she noted the tension across his shoulders, the way the corners of his mouth tipped downward. “Because I’ve survived more than a few fuckups like this, unfortunately.”  
  
“Fuckups?” At this, her brows arched high, and a spike of anger lanced through her. “Agent Taerich, there was no ‘fuckup.’ The situation changed in transit, as things often do.”  
  
“Changed in transit?” He echoed, his voice taking on an edge. Placing his hands on either side of himself, he shoved himself to his feet, waving off the droid as it attempted to stop him. “ _Changed in transit?_ I’m not sure how things look, sitting at those kriffing little terminals, day-in, day-out, _my lord_ ,” Reanden spat, rubbing his towel over his kolto-dampened hair, “but even I know how to assess security and count hostiles. Their assessment almost got me killed!”  
  
The spike of anger bloomed into a flame. “That assessment, _Agent Taerich,_ ” Mairen fired back, “was as accurate as the intel we were provided. By whom? By _your_ fellow field operatives -- by _your_ assets. So don’t you dare attempt to blame me -- my analysts -- for an operations failure!”  
  
Whirling on her heel, hands clenched at her sides, she stalked down the corridor, robes swirling around her ankles. Of all he arrogant, self-centered… _bantha shit_ , she thought to herself. How could she have _ever_ thought to be friends with that? To have spent the last week worried about him? To have actually _fucked_ him in the damned holocall booth? What in the Nine Hells could she have been _thinking_?  
  
_You were thinking you wanted to get laid,_ an inner voice reminded her, _and so was he. You wanted him and you_ enjoyed _it. Still kriffing dream about it, and it’s been months!_ She growled at herself as she rounded a corner. The expanse of black tiles and supports stretched before her as she continued charging ahead, Imperial banners acting as pops of color, blurring as her attention narrowed in her anger.  
  
“Ma -- Lord Bel Iblis!”  
  
She heard the near-slip, the frustration in his voice. “Oh, kriff off,” she called over her shoulder. Two passing apprentices raised their brows at her and she glared. “You, too!”  
  
“Y-yes, my lord!” they exclaimed. The two almost fell over themselves as they attempted to scamper out of the way. She watched with a small amount of very un-Jedi-like glee.  
  
“Lord Mairen -- wait!”  
  
She did finally stop in the corridor that led to her anterooms, whirling back on him. “Why? So you can continue to berate my people _and_ my leadership?” She narrowed her eyes at him. It had been a long while since she had lashed out at anyone -- but his very public insolence was treading a line that would, with further pursuit, require a response. “I think you should make yourself scarce, Agent Taerich.”  
  
Reanden stepped up, almost toe-to-toe, his presence towering before her, though he was a scant three inches taller. There was a spark behind his dark eyes, jaw taut. His nostrils flared and his chest rose and fell noticeably as he worked to regulate his breathing after running to catch up. “I _trusted_ that report, my lord -- relied on it. And it almost got me _killed_.”  
  
“And I will say again that it was. not. wrong,” Mairen said, matching his glare with her own. She felt her heartbeat flutter slightly, feeling the heat and the frustration radiating off of him, despite his substantial blocks. “I’ve spent the past _three_ days reviewing the raw intel myself. There were no indications it was anything other than a soft target. _None._ ”  
  
He gave a derisive snort. “Right. Tell that to the small army of mercs that were practically waiting on me.”  
  
Her anger spiked again, adrenaline coursing through her, pulse racing. “Maybe it wasn’t the intel or even the mercs,” she snapped. Her pride hurt -- personal and professional. She had done her job, dammit, whether or not he wanted to admit it. “Maybe you’re just getting _too kriffing old_ to be in the field.”  
  
“Too old?” A spark lit through his eyes, mouth tugging sideways as his hand slipped over her hip. His voice dropped, maintaining a rough edge, even as it gained a warm, seductive tone. “You didn’t seem to think I was _too old_ when we were scrambling to find that holocall booth.”  
  
“You --”  
  
“Arrogant prick? Yes, you’ve said that already.”  
  
She sputtered, for a rare moment in her life, at a complete loss for words at how much of a cocky bastard the sonofabitch was. “You… _kriff you_ , Taerich,” she finally snapped at him.  
  
“Oh, please do,” he growled out, hazel eyes flashing with a glint she suddenly recognized from Nar Shaddaa, right before they’d dragged each other into that damned booth. Heat flooded through her at the memory, his hands tightening on her hips… and when the Hells had she grabbed the ends of the towel around his neck?  
  
It was impossible to determine who moved first, whether he’d snatched her close or if she’d yanked his head down for a fierce kiss, rough and sloppy and entirely too arousing. She involuntarily moaned as he stepped into her space, pushing her against the door to her office. Blindly, she groped at the wall behind her until she found the control panel for the door. _Damn him_ , she inwardly grumbled as they stumbled into the office, the door sliding closed after them, shutting out the rest of the Citadel.  


* * *

  
The alert of an incoming holocall echoed through the office a short while later, as they stood, heads together, attempting to bring their heart rates and breathing back to normal. It sounded again and Reanden pressed a kiss to her forehead, easing back; her robes followed her feet to the floor. She paused long enough to right her garments, then smoothed a hand over the lower robes as she crossed to her desk and keyed the device, activating voice only. “Bel Iblis,” she said. If her voice was still a touch breathy, she hoped it wasn’t entirely noticeable over the communication.  
  
“Apologies for any interruption, my lord,” came the metallic-tinged voice of the medical droid, “but Agent Taerich failed to await discharge instructions before he departed to continue his discussion with you. Will further medical assistance be needed?”  
  
Mairen looked back to Reanden, arching a brow as he finished retucking his shirt. “No,” she drawled, “I think Agent Taerich has proven he’s quite fit.” She was not surprised to see the smirk that curled across his features.  
  
“Very well, my lord. I will forward his blasters and holster rig to his residence.”  
  
“Ah, no,” she said. “Please send them to my office. I will see that they are returned to Agent Taerich.”  
  
If the droid found it an unusual request, commenting on it was well beyond its scope. “As you command,” it replied. “I will dispatch them presently. Good day, my lord.”  
  
“Good day.” She closed the comm, turning her full attention to the spy now standing opposite her at the desk. Her expression softened. “So…”  
  
Amusement lit his eyes, mouth wrenching into a rueful smile. “So… ‘now what?’”  
  
“Yes, something like that.” Mairen nodded. She diverted her attention to her desk, fingers tracing the edge for a moment before she looked back at him. A hesitant expression played across her features. “I know this wasn’t supposed to happen again, but I… I’ll confess that I wanted it to.”  
  
“Heh.” He offered her a smirk as he rested his hands on the desk and braced his weight against it. “That… makes two of us.”  
  
She hoped her relief was not patently obvious, though she was unable to stop the ridiculous grin that brightened her features. Leaning forward, she mirrored his position. “While this and our romp in the booth have been fun, maybe we should… broaden our repertoire? Perhaps with a proper bed and” -- here she paused, caressing his upper bicep, mindful of the healing wound -- “a proper shower?”  
  
“You're just saying that because I reek of kolto.” Relief was visible across his own features, in the slope of his shoulders, the mischievous gleam in his eyes. “And now so do you.”  
  
“Yes, I expect I'll need to fix that,” Mairen replied with a chuckle,”before people start to talk.” She leaned in closer, gaze darting briefly toward his lips. “My place? Around 9?”  
  
Reanden gave a lopsided grin, narrowing the gap and brushing his lips against hers. “See you then,” he said, bumping his nose against hers. When she took the hint and tilted her head, he kissed her -- slowly, thoroughly -- before breaking the connection. “And I promise I won’t smell like kolto.”  
  
Mairen smiled against his lips. “I’ll hold you to that.” She was returning his kiss when the door chime sounded. Sighing, she drew back, placing a respectable distance between them before reaching for the door controls embedded in her desk. She looked up, finding a medical droid, this one with a white dome atop the gangly, silver chassis, stepping through the portal. “Yes?”  
  
“I was instructed to deliver the blasters and holster to you, my lord, for Agent Taerich.” The droid crossed to her, offering the items, even as it looked between them. “You are both showing elevated pulse and respiration. Are you quite well?”  
  
“More than,” the spy said, taking his belongings from the droid. He immediately set to buckling them on. Eyes flashing, he offered an amused bow to Mairen. “Until next time, my lord.”  
  
“I’ll look forward to it… _agent_.”  
  
Lord Bel Iblis stood watching until he disappeared through the door, gaze fixed on his departing form. She blinked after a long moment, looking to the droid. “That’s all for now. Thank you.”  
  
“As you say, my lord.”  
  
It was only after the droid departed that she lowered herself into her chair, giving a long exhale. Her heart and her mind swam with the whirlwind of emotion she had been through in such a short period of time: happiness to anger; arousal to euphoria and satisfaction. Confusion began to settle in their wake. Her Force connection hummed in the background, shrouded, but glowing brightly beneath the shadow. As with Nar Shaddaa, it all felt right -- he felt right in a way previous relationships hadn’t. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to think about that.  
  
A rueful, impish grin slipped across her lips. Maybe it was a good thing, then, that thinking was probably _not_ on the agenda for the evening.


End file.
